Sandrine's 2: You Must Remember This
by Laura W
Summary: "All these years, you've sacrificed what you wanted to protect my heart. It's time I protected yours just as fiercely." A little story to wrap up a loose end from Kirsten Beyer's "The Eternal Tide," with major spoilers for that and Beyer's other books. Also a bit of a tongue-in-cheek response to something I wrote 18 years ago. :-) Enjoy. J/C, P/T.
1. Chapter 1

**NOTE:** _A long time ago in the hiatus between Voyager's first two seasons...three months before "Elogium" and a full year before "Resolutions"...years before Seven of Nine was a gleam in anyone's eye...I wrote a bit of J/C fluff called "Everybody Comes to Sandrine's." The basic premise was this: Two years into _Voyager's_ long journey, a newlywed couple approaches the command team to ask for permission to have a child. Their request inspires the command duo to have a deep discussion about the prospect of families on _Voyager_, and that discussion becomes the catalyst for their own romantic relationship. The couple...was Harry and B'Elanna. (Stop laughing! It was a mainstream ship!) The story was rendered non-canon about five minutes after I wrote it, and not just because of P/T. But people still stumble across it occasionally, and I still get nice comments about it even now._

_Fast-forward to late summer of 2012 and Kirsten Beyer's novel _The Eternal Tide_, which I mostly enjoyed in spite of a plot I found almost indecipherable – and I've read _Ulysses_. (Twice.) I feel like there's a lot of unfinished business in that novel and in its predecessors, especially _Full Circle_. As soon as I closed the book, my mind started seizing on those little character moments that Beyer probably had to leave out in favor of allowing the plot to unfold, or maybe hold for the next book, due in January. This story explores one of those little moments, one that I just couldn't let go...because I felt I'd already written it, just from a slightly different perspective._

_Be forewarned: There are major spoilers here for _The Eternal Tide _and _Full Circle_. And you need not have read "Everybody Comes to Sandrine's" for this story to make sense, although it might be kind of fun to see how they stack up against each other. You'll find it on my stories page._

_Without further ado, I give you:_

**SANDRINE'S 2.0: YOU MUST REMEMBER THIS**

**Part 1**

They were doing it again.

Harry Kim leaned against his console at Tactics and watched them in the middle of _Voyager's_ bridge, the Captain and the Admiral, heads bent close together, whispering over the console between them. Captain Chakotay was in his usual center seat, but the Admiral sat perched on the edge of the First Officer's chair. Tom had excused himself from the bridge almost an hour before on some unspecified errand, so when Admiral Janeway had wandered onto the Bridge just before the end of the watch and found the seat empty...and when Captain Chakotay had smiled and asked her to stay...of course she had sat down beside him, as if it were the most natural thing in the Universe.

Except for the additional pips on all their collars, Harry mused, the shifting of some roles and a few gray hairs, it was almost like old times. _Voyager _was traversing a relatively stable part of the Delta Quadrant, Tom was probably up to some mischief belowdecks with B'Elanna and little Miral, and Janeway and Chakotay were physically trying to close the distance between them in the center of the Bridge.

Yes, it was almost like old times.

_Almost_.

There was one distinct difference, and that made _all_ the difference.

Harry leaned his elbows on the console and smiled, watching them.

Most everyone on _Voyager_ was now aware that the Admiral and the Captain were... What? "A couple" seemed ridiculous and juvenile, and "in a relationship" seemed inadequate, given everything they'd been through together.

_Together_. Maybe that was the word for it. Together now in every way, in the only way they hadn't been on their first trip through the Delta Quadrant.

Harry was ecstatic for them. No two people in all the Universe deserved more happiness than these two, as far as he was concerned. They'd put their own lives aside for seven long years during their first foray into the Delta Quadrant, focusing instead on getting their wayward crew home in one piece. More recently, they'd all spent fourteen horrible months under the misapprehension that Janeway was dead – or worse, assimilated. Then, on the mission that brought Janeway back to them, Chakotay attempted to sacrifice himself in order to save the crew and the fleet and...the Universe, really. But Q Junior had intervened at the last moment, returning Chakotay to the land of the living, dropping him at Janeway's feet against all odds and the elder Q's vehement objections.

It had been a bizarre fourteen months.

But what had Janeway said to him once? _We're in Starfleet. Weird is part of the job._

Truer words were never spoken.

So now Harry found himself leaning against the Tactics console watching the two people he admired most exchange whispers in the center of the Bridge. They hadn't been conspicuously demonstrative since their reunion, but it was pretty common knowledge that they were spending all of their off-duty time together, and sleeping in the same quarters. Their legendary dedication to duty hadn't wavered even once, and Harry had no doubt that if a hostile alien ship were to drop out of warp in front of them, both the Admiral and the Captain would spring into action without missing a beat. But for now, with no crisis looming and no enemies on the horizon, they only had eyes for each other, oblivious to the activity around them.

Not that there was much activity today. Most of the Alpha shift had apparently decided to take advantage of the quiet region of space to pursue long-neglected repairs, projects and sleep. The relief navigator was staring at the viewscreen and drumming his fingers on the console, heedless of the cozy scene playing out behind him. Even Seven, standing at Harry's old Ops station, looked bored. Harry wondered if she could hear Janeway and Chakotay. He'd never been able to from that position, but Seven's superior auditory sense might give her an advantage there that he'd never had. Not that she would ever disclose what she'd heard, even if she could hear. Seven was very protective of Janeway and Chakotay and would likely keep whatever she'd heard entirely to herself.

When the word "thigh" drifted up from the center seats, Harry almost wished he were back at his old station. He glanced over at Seven, whose expression didn't waver, and resisted the urge to cover his ears.

It had been quite a shock to find out that from the Tactics station, virtually every word spoken in the center of the Bridge was audible. Tuvok must have stood there for seven long years overhearing endless conversations about dogs and food and who knows what else – and arguments about policies and tactics. Tom had always said that from helm he could only make out bits and pieces of whatever Janeway and Chakotay were discussing behind him, but Tuvok...Tuvok must have heard it all. And the wily old Vulcan had never said a thing, even though those little end-of-watch chats were legendary.

And they were doing it again.

"My whole body hurts," Janeway murmured, and Harry's eyes widened.

Chakotay rubbed his chin. "Maybe we're overdoing it."

Harry almost groaned out loud.

Janeway shifted in her seat. "I feel...creaky."

"Creaky?"

She nodded. "Old and worn out. I know I'm out of practice, but it's been weeks. Shouldn't I have gotten the hang of it again? Isn't it like riding a bicycle?"

Harry covered his eyes with his hand.

Chakotay shifted a little further toward her in his seat. "Can you elaborate on 'creaky?' Is it a deep-tissue ache, or more centered in the joints?"

"Neither. I just feel...brittle."

"That sounds like it could be leftover lactic acidosis, but last night's buildup should have dissipated by now." The Captain frowned. "I think we _are_ overdoing it, Kathryn."

Janeway sighed. "This was so much easier when I was younger."

"Agreed. But that's why we just have to keep at it."

"Practice makes perfect, Captain?"

Harry cringed. "Exactly," the Captain smirked. "Let's take a break tonight. Have a nice meal and go back at it tomorrow."

"But can we take the intensity down a notch?"

"Only temporarily, I hope?"

"Oh, of course." Janeway glanced up at the Tactics station. "Harry, can I ask your opinion about something?"

Harry nearly jumped out of his socks. "Of course, Admiral. What can I do for you?"

"Captain Chakotay and I have been working through the Doc's fitness routine and the self-defense regimen you suggested to get me back to fighting form, but it's all a little too intense for me. Think you can adjust the intensity for a middle-aged woman who's been dead for fourteen months?"

Harry blushed furiously with the realization that they hadn't been talking about _that_ at all. "I...of course, Admiral."

Seven piped up from across the Bridge. "Might I point out, Admiral, that you were not technically deceased for those fourteen months?"

Janeway whirled around in the chair. "If I wasn't dead, what was I?"

Seven cocked her head to one side. "Suspended."

Chakotay gave a light chuckle. "'Suspended.' I like that."

Waving a hand at them both, Janeway turned back to Harry. "Dead or suspended, I'm not as strong, quick or flexible as I once was, and between the running, the heavy bag, the drills and sparring with the Captain here, I feel tired and...creaky. I'll talk to the Doc about the fitness part, but Harry, your regimen is just a little too much. I don't want your Security staff to feel like they have to coddle me whenever I leave the ship, but I think I need to bring down the intensity for a while. Can you design a new scheme for me?"

He gave her a quick nod. "Yes, Admiral. I'll have something for you in the morning."

"Thank you." She turned to Chakotay again. "In the meantime, Captain, I think you said something about a nice meal and a rest?"

"It would be my pleasure, Admiral. Come on over after shift and I'll replicate anything you want."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Anything?"

He leaned far to his left, practically climbing out of his chair and into hers. "Anything, Kathryn."

Harry cleared his throat.

Janeway glanced up at him and then dropped her voice to a mock-whisper. "Careful, Captain. The crew are listening."

"I think they know, Admiral."

Harry rolled his eyes. "All due respect, Captain, but we'd have to be deaf not to."

"And blind," Seven added.

The relief navigator chuckled silently, his shoulders shaking.

_God, I've missed this_, Harry thought.

In spite of all the losses and setbacks, or maybe because of them, it was good to be able to laugh again, even for a moment. Harry could never have imagined that after everything they'd been through, he'd find himself still on the Bridge of the _Voyager_, cruising through the Delta Quadrant again. After her return, Harry had assumed that Admiral Janeway would order the remaining fleet back to the Alpha Quadrant to regroup. And yet, here they were, and at her command. Harry had wondered briefly who had talked her out of taking the safe route.

His speculation had stopped when Captain Chakotay had addressed the crews of all the remaining ships in a stirring, impassioned speech outlining all the good they could still do in the Delta Quadrant. He hadn't soft-pedaled the danger they would face, and he'd given every person the option of returning to the Alpha Quadrant. A few had. But most had stayed.

There was still good work to be done in the Delta Quadrant, and Harry was proud to be among those chosen to do it. Tom and B'Elanna had stayed on board, too, along with Seven of Nine and Hugh Cambridge, the Doc, most of Chakotay's former crew... And Nancy.

Harry smiled to himself. He had high hopes for that new development. He glanced at the chrono and drummed his fingertips on the console. He and Nancy were working different shifts, but they were still managing to find time to spend together after the end of Beta shift most days. It left Harry with time to kill between the end of his shift and hers, but so far he'd found plenty to occupy him. He and Tom had resurrected Sandrine's, the popular Holodeck bar from their first trip through the Delta Quadrant, and Harry was enjoying getting to know his new crewmates over the pool table there.

He was just about to check on the Holodeck schedule when the lift doors open and Tom and B'Elanna strolled out. "Hey, guys," Harry said, and smiled.

They both nodded at him and joined him at his console. "Dinner and Sandrine's?" he asked.

They exchanged a glance. "Not tonight, Harry," Tom said quietly. He glanced at the center seats and back again. "We need to talk to the Captain and the Admiral."

"Oh." Harry fought to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Okay."

B'Elanna elbowed him in the ribs. "You probably have plans with Nancy anyway, right?"

Harry shook his head. "She's on Beta this month. I'll catch her later."

Tom smiled, but it seemed forced. "Tomorrow night?"

"Sure," Harry nodded. "Tomorrow night."

They both nodded at him and continued to the center of the Bridge.

_I wonder what that's all about_, Harry wondered, and leaned on his console to watch.

Tom and B'Elanna stepped in front of the Admiral and Captain, who both looked up and smiled. "Good of my First Officer to turn up at his post just in time for the end of the watch," Chakotay said.

Tom cleared his throat. "My apologies, sir. I had some things to discuss with my wife."

Janeway frowned, looking from one to the other. "Is everything all right?"

"Admiral, Captain, we'd like to speak with you, if you have a minute," B'Elanna said, and Harry wasn't sure he'd ever heard her voice so tentative.

Chakotay held B'Elanna's eyes. "If this is ship's business, then by all means."

B'Elanna shifted her feet nervously. "It's both ship's business and personal," she said. "And we'd like both of you to be present."

Harry watched the command officers exchange a glance, communicating silently, as they had done for years. Then Chakotay nodded at them. "All right. Harry, you have the Bridge."

"Aye, Captain," Harry acknowledged, but stayed at his station.

Janeway ushered Tom and B'Elanna into the Captain's Ready Room, Chakotay following close behind her, one hand on the small of her back. Harry smiled, watching them.

The door slid closed after them. Harry drummed his fingers on his console, his brows knit together, trying to guess what kind of personal matter his two friends would want to discuss with the Captain and Admiral on such a quiet afternoon. With a shrug, he pulled up the Admiral's self-defense training regimen and settled in to wait. When relief crew arrived for Alpha Shift, two Lieutenant Commanders Harry didn't know well slid into the center seats, Ensign Brill took over Tactical, and Harry moved to a side console.

Twenty minutes later, while he was pulling together a less rigorous hand-to-hand combat training routine for the Admiral, the Ready Room door opened again. B'Elanna and Tom emerged first, hand-in-hand. They looked…shell-shocked. Harry's hands stilled on console. Admiral Janeway emerged a second later, looking bewildered. The Captain did not emerge.

Harry watched the trio cross the bridge wordlessly. He wasn't usually a nosy person, but something about his friends' expressions – upset, confused – and the Admiral's bright eyes alarmed him. He saved his file, shut down his console and followed them into the lift.

They rode in silence for several decks. Tom wrapped his arm around B'Elanna. Janeway rubbed her forehead. Harry leaned against the wall, staring at them all. No one spoke.

The lift slowed to a halt and Janeway started to exit, but B'Elanna caught her by the sleeve. "We want to thank you for your help, Admiral."

Janeway paused, holding the lift doors with one hand. She glanced at Harry, who gave her a small smile, and then turned back to Tom and B'Elanna. "You have all my support," she said softly, "and I'll do everything I can to make your case with Chakotay. But it's his ship. Ultimately his decision, whatever it is, will stand."

Tom and B'Elanna exchanged a glance. "I don't understand why he reacted the way he did," B'Elanna said. "We didn't expect that."

Tom gave a soft, humorless chuckle. "I guess we took him by surprise."

Janeway shook her head sadly. "So did I."

Tom placed his hand on the Admiral's shoulder. "I didn't mean-"

Janeway bit her lip and looked away, and in an awful instant, Harry thought he saw her choke back tears. "I'll talk to him," she murmured. "But I can't promise you anything." Then she let go of the lift doors and withdrew.

Harry felt as though the universe had tilted beneath his feat. Half an hour ago, he'd been watching the Captain and the Admiral practically snuggling in the center of the Bridge. Now something was terribly wrong. "What's going on?" he asked when the lift resumed.

B'Elanna shook her head at him and turned away. Tom put his arm around her again, and she snuggled into his side. "Later, Harry," he said. "We'll tell you, but… Later. Okay?"

Harry rocked back on his heels. "I can't help?"

Tom gave him a sad, tired smile. "Not this time, Buster," he said. "Not yet."

"But later?"

Tom nodded. "Later." The lift stopped at their deck. Tom and B'Elanna stepped off, but Harry stayed behind. "Coming?"

Harry shook his head. "Think I'll go to Sandrine's for a while."

The doors closed again.

Harry was seated in his usual chair at Sandrine's before it occurred to him that at least until the end of Beta shift, he would probably be drinking alone.

-END Part 1-


	2. Chapter 2

**NOTE**: Just a short section this time. More soon.

**Part 2**

B'Elanna sat back and watched Tom pull a soft yellow nightgown over their wriggling daughter's head. "There you go, Little Duck," he cooed, and kissed Miral's forehead. "Ready for bed."

"No," Miral said firmly, and pushed him way. "Captain Proton."

"I know you want Captain Proton, kiddo. But we talked about this," Tom said, glancing at his wife. "TV before bed gives you nightmares."

"Captain Proton!" she wailed. "Captain Protoooooon!"

Seated on the edge of the bathtub, B'Elanna leaned her elbows on her knees and sighed. Dinner in their quarters had been a messy, noisy affair. Miral, rarely a compliant child at the best of times, had been a holy terror all evening. Perhaps sensing the tension between her parents, she'd acted out at the table, refusing to eat the food Tom had prepared for them, demanding peanut butter sandwiches and pizza instead of the turkey and mashed potatoes in front of her.

As usual, Tom had caved in to her tantrum and replicated the pizza for dessert.

"Captain Proton!" Miral wailed again.

Tom puffed his cheeks out and exhaled slowly. He turned to her once more, his blue eyes pleading with her. "Don't you think-"

B'Elanna growled at them both and left the bathroom.

Everything was falling apart in her hands. After all they'd been through – separation, faked death, near death, real death, reunion – nothing was going the way they'd hoped. She swept the dirty dinner dishes into the recycler, reveling in the loud crash, but felt instantly remorseful when she heard Miral's cry of surprise and alarm from the bathroom.

"Hey, Little Duck," Tom said softly. "It's okay. Mama's just clearing the table. It's okay. Don't cry, Miral. Daddy's here."

B'Elanna wiped tears from her own cheeks.

Damn Chakotay, anyway. Damn his stupid nobility and his stubborn overprotective streak. Damn his self-righteousness. Damn his love, too, his deep, quiet love for her and her little family.

Sinking down on the sofa, B'Elanna buried her face in her hands. She listened to Tom continue to console and cajole their daughter, his voice calm and steady even as Miral's wails grew to a fever pitch.

"Captain Proton!" she cried. "Buster!"

Tom's quiet voice answered. "I know, sweetie. Tomorrow. How about a bedtime story tonight instead?"

"No bed!"

"It's bedtime, Miral," he answered. "And you're so tired you don't even know what you want. Let's have a story and get you to bed."

The little girl sniffled and gave one last, fading sob. "Mama too?"

"Let's check on her."

B'Elanna scrubbed tears away from her face and rose as they emerged from the bathroom together, Miral draped around Tom's neck, her teary face pressed into his shoulder. "Mama too," B'Elanna said, and forced a smile for both of them.

Together they tucked Miral into bed. With the patience of a saint, Tom read story after story to them both, until Miral was asleep and B'Elanna had shaken off the last of her anger, if not her nervous tension.

Tom yawned and tucked the blanket more firmly around Miral. He stared down at her for a long time, his face shuttered. "Tom?" B'Elanna asked.

Tom gave his head a little shake and sighed, not taking his eyes off their sleeping daughter.

"It should be our choice, Tom," B'Elanna whispered. "Not his."

"He's just trying to keep us safe," Tom offered.

"But it's safer than it was last time."

Tom shrugged. "I know that. We all do. But we really didn't have a choice last time. It was a risk we had to take."

"And now that we don't _have_ to take it, he thinks we shouldn't." B'Elanna clenched her fists around the edge of Miral's little bed. "I want to raise them both here, with the people we love around us."

"So do I." Tom rubbed his forehead. "But just a few weeks ago, Chakotay tried to sacrifice himself so I wouldn't have to," he said softly. "He was ready to give up his life so you and Miral wouldn't be alone. I think that's why he's doing this. Because he loves us, and he wants to keep us safe."

"I know." B'Elanna sighed. "But that doesn't explain what he said to the Admiral."

"No, it doesn't." Tom looked up at her, his blue eyes pained.

"What did we do, Tom? Why was he so angry?"

"I'm not sure." He rose and crossed to the living room, B'Elanna following at his heels. "I think maybe we forced something that they weren't ready for yet."

B'Elanna nodded. "It's possible." She looked up at her husband. "Do you think I should go talk to him?"

Tom raised his head. "Computer, locate Admiral Janeway."

"_Admiral Janeway is in Captain Chakotay's quarters."_

Tom shrugged. "We better just let them work it out."

B'Elanna paced the length of the room, four quick strides to the left, four quick strides to the right. "I feel like I should do _something_." Her nervous energy had returned, full-force. "I can't just _sit_ here while they're making a decision about our future."

Tom chuckled. "Go take a walk, B'Ela. I'll hold down the fort."

She stopped pacing and looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

He grinned. "Unless I'm grounded from Captain Proton, too?"

She smacked his chest. "Back in an hour, Helmboy." She rose up on her toes and kissed him hard on the mouth. "Then you can help me work off the rest of this tension," she whispered.

Tom laughed. "I look forward to that." Before she could turn away from him, he grabbed her by the elbow and held her close. "It's going to be okay, B'Elanna," he said. "Either way, it's going to be okay."

"I know. I'll see you in a little while." She kissed his cheek and headed out into the corridor, certain that when she returned in an hour, he'd be sound asleep in front of the TV.

-END Part 2-


	3. Chapter 3

**Note**: A longer bit this time. More soon. Promise!

**Part 3**

Sandrine's was quiet tonight.

Frowning, Harry leaned against the pool table and watched the holographic characters chatting among themselves. For the first few days after the return of Admiral Janeway, the bar had been crowded with original _Voyager_ crew regaling their new shipmates with tales from the Delta Quadrant – most of them with just a few creative embellishments. But tonight the place was empty of all but himself and the holograms, and much too quiet.

The whole ship was too quiet. Every footfall in the corridors had sounded hollow and harsh as he'd made his way from the lift to the Holodeck. Hours had passed since then, and Harry still felt…disconcerted by the silence and emptiness.

"Damn. Your go, Harry."

Harry shook himself out of his melancholy and glanced at his holographic opponent, who nodded at the pool table. "Missed an easy one," the nondescript man said. "You're up."

"Right. Thanks." Harry chalked his cue and surveyed the colorful balls on the green felt. The opponent he'd selected for the evening wasn't very good. Harry had already won two games and was on his way to a third victory without even trying very hard. Maybe it was time to reactivate Gaunt Gary's matrix, just for a challenge.

He wished Tom were there with him.

Harry sighed. He wished _anyone_ were there with him.

He sank a couple of easy shots and was lining up for the shot that would end the match when the wood and glass doors opened and B'Elanna stepped in looking tired and confused.

Alarm bells started ringing in Harry's head. "Hey, B'Elanna," he said carefully. "This is a surprise. I figured you and Tom and Miral had settled in for the evening."

B'Elanna gave a slow shake of her head. "They're settled in. I needed some air."

Harry felt his brows rise. "Everything okay?"

"For now, I guess."

Certain now that something was very wrong, Harry racked his pool cue. "Want to talk about it?"

B'Elanna looked up at him, and Harry saw the shimmer of tears in her dark eyes. "You don't mind?"

Harry smiled and waved to an empty table. "What are friends for?" He headed for the bar. "Beer or something stronger?"

"Tea, please," B'Elanna replied. "Blend number nine."

Surprised, Harry ordered up a pot of tea and two mugs. When he turned back to the table and caught a glimpse of B'Elanna with her face buried in her hands, he looked away to give her some space and deleted the holographic characters.

Back at the table, he poured two mugs of sweet Egyptian licorice tea and waited while B'Elanna gathered herself. After a moment, she wrapped her hands around the mug and breathed in the steam with a small smile. "Smells like Chakotay's office. His old office," she corrected, and raised the cup to her lips.

Harry smiled and sipped his own tea. "And the Ready Room always smelled like coffee."

B'Elanna nodded. "It seeped in. We couldn't do a proper cleaning, so everything lingered. Scents, especially."

"And memories."

She nodded. "Do you miss it?"

"Sometimes. Do you?"

"All the time," she whispered, and took a long sip of her tea. "So much."

Harry pushed his mug aside, desperate to know what had made his friend so glum. "What's happened, B'Elanna? Did Tom do something?"

B'Elanna snorted. "No, not Tom. Everything's fine with Tom." She reached out and took one of his hands in her own, meeting his eyes steadily. "In fact, I'm pregnant again, Harry."

With a gasp and a little whoop of surprise, Harry rose and pulled her up into a fierce hug. "That's wonderful!" he exclaimed, holding her tight. "Congratulations!"

B'Elanna wrapped her arms around him. "Thanks," she said, her face pressed to the side of his neck. "We're thrilled. Tom's about to bust." She gave him one last squeeze, then drew back to look up at him with a watery smile. "I just wish everyone were so excited for this."

Harry held her at arm's length, searching her face. The whole evening slammed into context for him – his friends' request to meet with their commanding officers, the tense ride in the lift, the quietness of the corridors. "You told the Captain and the Admiral this evening, didn't you?"

B'Elanna nodded and sat back down. "That's why we needed to meet with them. We wanted to tell them right away so we could ask permission to stay on the ship." She wrapped her hands around the mug again. "We want to raise both kids here, with our family around us."

"Family?"

She nodded. "You and Nancy. The Doc and Seven. And the Captain and the Admiral. Family."

Harry nodded, ignoring the lump in his throat. "So what's the problem?" When B'Elanna didn't answer, just stared at him with sad eyes, Harry thought back over the odd conversation in the lift. Tom and B'Elanna had clearly had a shock, but the Admiral's reaction had been even stronger. She'd seemed astonished and confused, and profoundly hurt. Cut to the bone, in fact. Harry sucked in a harsh breath. "Tell me what happened, B'Elanna," he said in a low voice. "Tell me what Chakotay's done."

B'Elanna looked up at him sharply, her eyes narrowed. "You're way too observant sometimes, Starfleet."

"Years of practice, Maquis," he replied, forcing a smile. "Tell me."

B'Elanna let out a long sigh. "We just told them first that we're expecting again. They were really surprised."

"I'll bet."

"And happy, too, like they were the first time. The Admiral started talking about replicating yarn for a new blanket, and Chakotay hugged me so hard I thought I'd suffocate." She gave a soft chuckle. "Then they both started lobbying to be the new kid's godfather, since they missed out on Miral."

Harry shook his head. "I'm never going to get a shot at that, am I?"

She gave him a forced smile that was completely unconvincing. "We haven't made any decisions yet."

"And I know you'll decide what's best for the kiddo," Harry said. "No hard feelings either way."

She gave his hand a brief squeeze and went on with her story. "Then we told them we want to stay and raise our family on _Voyager_." All the good humor and affection drained from her face. "That didn't go over so well."

"Really? That surprises me."

B'Elanna sighed. "The Admiral was okay with it," she clarified. "In fact, I think she was amazed that we even brought it up."

"She probably was." B'Elanna looked up at him and he shrugged. "There was never any question about where you'd raise Miral, and things are better now. We have contact with HQ and a way get back to the Alpha Quadrant if we need to. There's a lot less uncertainty than there was three years ago."

B'Elanna smacked her palms on the table. "Exactly," she said. "It's actually _safer_ now than it was when we thought we'd be raising Miral here. That's why Chakotay's reaction just doesn't make sense."

Harry leaned across the table. "How did he react?"

"He didn't say anything at first. He just sat there, listening to the Admiral and Tom talk and make plans and..." She rose suddenly and paced the length of the bar, her arms crossed over her chest. "But I was watching him. He wasn't happy. So I asked him what he thought." B'Elanna stopped pacing, her back turned to him.

"What did he say?" Harry prompted.

"He said he thought we should reconsider."

Harry's mouth fell open. "Did he say why?"

Her back still turned to him, B'Elanna shook her head. "I was going to ask him why, but the Admiral...she didn't even give me a chance."

"What did she do?"

"She started rattling off all the things you just did." B'Elanna turned to him and ticked the points off on her fingers. "It's better now than it was then, we're in contact with Starfleet, and we can get home if we have to. But Chakotay just sat there and said it was more than that."

"Then what happened?"

B'Elanna rubbed her forehead. "He said there were practical matters to consider, too. Resources for the children. Child care. Education."

"But we figured all that out for Naomi," Harry protested. "We could do it again."

"I know. The Admiral reminded him of all those things. And then she said..." B'Elanna hesitated, biting her lip.

A shiver ran up Harry's spine. "What did she say, B'Ela?"

"She said that if space was the problem, we could have her quarters."

Harry gasped. "You're kidding."

B'Elanna shook her head. "No, she offered us her quarters, just like that. You know how huge those Admiral's quarters are. Those rooms are the size of a VIP suite on one of the new _Galaxy_-class ships."

"Plenty of room for the four of you," Harry agreed. "So what's the problem?"

"I think she thought he'd catch on, but he didn't. He just sat there. And then he finally asked her where she was planning on living."

Harry ran a tired hand over his face. "Let me guess. He not only didn't pick up on her signal, when he finally did work things out his contrariness took over?"

B'Elanna crossed to him again, stricken. "He wanted to know if she'd planned to tell him she was moving into his quarters, or if she meant to just start adding things to his closet."

Remembering the baffled and hurt look on her face when she'd emerged from the Captain's office, Harry knew how confused the Admiral must have been by Chakotay's reaction. "She thought he'd be happy."

"She thought he'd be thrilled!" B'Elanna bellowed. "But he wasn't. He was angry, Harry. Really angry. He said something about her making decisions for him, and how he wouldn't stand for it on his ship any more than she ever had. She tried to explain and apologize, but he got that stubborn look. You know the one."

Harry nodded. In his mind's eye he saw Chakotay's jaw clench, and the Admiral's gasp of surprise. "I know."

"He said he'd have to think about it and they'd have to discuss it alone. And then he dismissed us. All of us. Now they're in his quarters, deciding our fate." B'Elanna sank into the chair opposite him, a look of entreaty on her face. "We didn't mean for this to happen, Harry. Tom and I...we never even talked about having another baby and now... What if we've messed things up for them?"

Harry sipped his tea, gathering his thoughts. The Admiral had probably just assumed that now that she and the Captain were finally together, he'd be glad for her to move in with him. They were spending most of their time in his quarters, anyway; Harry had heard her mention that she was just more comfortable there. They felt like home to her. At the time of the conversation, Harry had watched a speculative look cross the Captain's face. "Because of their location?"

The Admiral had taken his hand, right in the middle of the Mess Hall. "Because of you," she'd said, and pressed a tender kiss to his cheek. "Always because of you."

Harry placed his empty mug on the table and shook his head. "I think they'll be okay," he said softly. "They love each other. They have for a long time. But I think they've been through a lot in the last few weeks. Maybe your news just...made them think about things they'd been putting off while they get to know each other again."

B'Elanna gave a soft chuckle. "Tom said almost the same thing. Maybe we forced them to confront something they weren't ready for."

Harry smiled. "That Captain Proton's pretty smart sometimes."

She took his hand again. "So is Buster. Thanks."

Harry gave her hand a small squeeze. "It'll be okay. Might be a rough couple of days while they work things out, but don't worry. They _will_ work things out. They love each other too much not to. Just like you and Tom."

To his astonishment, tears filled B'Elanna's eyes again. "We really do want to raise the kids here. We have good friends here like you and Chakotay and the Admiral, and that's everything."

"Enough to make me Godfather?"

B'Elanna rose, laughing. "Don't push your luck, Buster."

Harry chuckled. "Headed home?"

"I don't want Tom falling asleep in front of the TV again. The sofa kills his back and he hobbles around like a little old man instead of going to the Doc." She held the door open for him. "How about you?"

Harry shook his head. "I've got a couple more hours to kill before Nancy gets off shift. Maybe I'll shoot some more pool. Give Tom my congratulations, though."

"I will. Good-night, Harry."

"Good-night."

When the doors had closed behind her, Harry leaned back in his chair with a pensive expression. He wondered why Chakotay had reacted the way he had to the Admiral's offer to move in together. Sure, it was a big step in any relationship, but as far as Harry knew the Captain had no particular fear of commitment, so that couldn't be the problem. There was no good professional reason why the two of them were maintaining separate quarters, either; no regulation prohibited their relationship anymore, and they seemed perfectly content together. They weren't hiding their status from the crew, and they were spending virtually every off-duty moment in each others' presence. Moving in together was the next logical step. So why had the Captain reacted so badly to her proposal?

With a tired sigh, Harry raised his chin and spoke to the empty room. "Computer: I need a _kal-toh_ set. Solitaire specifications."

The set shimmered into existence on the table in front of him. Harry raised his chin again. "Computer: Add a piano and a player to the scene. Old Earth era...1930s."

A battered old upright piano appeared in the corner of the bar, joined an instant later by a bald man in a vintage white dinner jacket. The man noodled at the keys aimlessly for a moment. "Got a request, Boss?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "Your choice. But get ready to settle in. I might be here a while."

"Yes, Boss," the singer replied, and began to tentatively offer up a tune Harry recognized from one of Tom's old movies.

"Good choice," he murmured. "Play it, Sam."

"Yes, Boss."

Harry began to arrange the _kal-toh_ pieces into a pattern. "I have a feeling we'll have another visitor tonight."

-END Part 3-


	4. Chapter 4

**Note:** Everybody's asking for some J/C. So here's some...sort of. More soon.

**Part 4**

"I'm trying to understand why you're doing this."

Chakotay sighed. As if by an unspoken agreement to keep things as light and normal as possible, they'd eaten dinner in his quarters. But the meal had been suffused with a tense and wary silence, a marked contrast to the warm, affectionate evenings they'd shared since her return. The trappings were the same as always – candles and flowers, a fine wine and a rich dessert – but there was an anxiousness that hovered over the table, too, a careful stillness that amplified every click of flatware and magnified every guarded look.

The caution was as familiar as the affection had become. It dated back to their first trip through the quadrant and the many times he'd sat in the same quarters, at the same table, and said some variation of the same words to her.

He tossed his napkin onto his empty plate. "I don't think I need to justify my decisions regarding ship's business to you, Admiral."

She turned away from him as if she'd been struck, no doubt hearing an old echo of the words in her own voice. While he regretted her reaction, he knew he'd again made the necessary point: _Voyager_ was his ship now, and unless she chose to overrule him as Fleet Admiral, his decisions were final.

Kathryn folded her hands in her lap and stared at them. "No, you don't need to justify your decision, Captain, and you know that whatever you decide will stand. But I had hoped…" She closed her eyes. "I had hoped _you_ would at least explain yourself to _me_."

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask if there was a difference, but he refrained when he heard the catch in her voice.

Of course there was a difference.

The Admiral would never overrule him and undermine the Captain's authority with his crew, any more than the Commander would have undermined the Captain's in anything other than a life-or-death situation. He knew that deep in his bones. But he also knew in that same deep place that it wasn't the Admiral asking him to clarify his reasoning. It was the lover, the _friend_, who needed to understand why he wanted to send the young family away.

He leaned his elbows on the table. "It's not safe enough."

She swung around to face him, eyes flashing. "It's safer than it was last time."

"We didn't have a choice last time."

"And that's what makes it safer! We're a fleet now. We have backup. Not much backup, I admit, but backup. We're in contact with HQ and we have the means to send them to safety if we have to."

"Not good enough," he countered. He pointed to the viewpoint behind her. "If some hostile alien drops out of warp right now, hell-bent on our destruction, how long will it take us to ready a shuttle with the drive, load B'Ela and Miral into it and send them back?" When she didn't answer, he leaned across the table toward her. "How long, Kathryn?"

She raised her chin. "Hours."

"Hours they can't spare." He gathered their dirty dishes into a pile, rose and crossed the dining area. "It's just not safe for them to stay here." The loud clatter of the dishes in the recycler was deafening in the silence that followed his declaration.

"What if we pre-equipped a shuttle and kept it on standby?"

"We'd still lose precious minutes getting them into it and launching it. And then they'd be a target, too." He retrieved the battered silver coffee mug he'd taken from her office after her funeral and filled it with black coffee from the replicator, and ordered a chamomile tea for himself. "It's out of the question."

"If it's the space you're worried about—"

"Damn it, Kathryn, it's not the space." Exasperated, he stomped to the sofa and placed their drinks on the coffee table. When she didn't join him right away, he looked up to find her still seated at the table, staring at him with wide, sad eyes. "It has nothing to do with the space," he said, more gently. "We have plenty of that."

"So you have no objection to sharing quarters?"

He ran a hand over his face. "I didn't say that."

"You do have an objection to it?"

"I didn't say that, either."

"Then what's the problem?  
He clenched his fists in his lap, tamping down his anger. "The problem is that you assumed without asking me. You made the decision for me."

She blinked away the tears that were threatening in her eyes. "I tried to tell you, Chakotay. It wasn't a decision, it was a suggestion. You've made it very clear that you and only you make the decisions on this ship." Her voice, cold as ice, was one he'd heard before.

"On the ship, I do. You know that." He waved to the space between them. "But in here, in this relationship, we're equals."

"Are we? Given our positions, can we _ever_ be equals?"

He felt his shoulders slump. "Kathryn…"

She held a hand up to stop him. "No, I understand. I do. Better than you can possibly know." She rose swiftly and retrieved her boots from the corner where she'd left them.

He stood up. "Where are you going?"

"For a walk. I need to get away to think."

"Wait." He darted to her and took her arm gently. "Just wait a minute." She looked up at him with wary expectation. "A few weeks ago I told Hugh I knew this relationship wouldn't be easy for us. I told him we were going to have to be careful not to fall back into old patterns of behavior. I think maybe this is one."

"What is?"

"You walking away from an argument."

She wrenched her arm away from his grasp. "Maybe. But maybe you should look to your own behavior."

"Excuse me?"

"You say it's not the space issue that's driving this. You say it's resources and safety. But I suspect there's something else at play that you haven't even bothered to think about yet."

His mouth fell open. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You letting your emotions drive your decisions seems very familiar to me, Captain."

He turned his back on her. "Enjoy your walk, Admiral."

When the door slid open and closed behind him, he picked up her full coffee mug and flung it across the room.

_Damn it._

Damn _her_.

She had no right to accuse him of faulty decision making, not as his former CO, not as the Fleet Admiral, and certainly not as his lover. He was the Captain of the ship now, not her. His decision would stand, regardless of its foundation – rational or emotional, or both.

_Rational_, he told himself. _All rational._

It just wasn't safe. Why couldn't she see that? There was still a Universe of good to do in the Delta Quadrant, and even though they knew many of the threats they would face, there was no way to anticipate them all. Fleet or no fleet, the Delta Quadrant was no place to raise children. It hadn't been the first time, and even though Naomi had turned out just fine – as had Icheb, and as Miral would have, had they stayed in the quadrant longer – now that they had the choice between an uncertain and itinerant shipboard existence and a normal life on a planet somewhere, it would have been irresponsible not to send them back.

Chakotay stood and stared at the puddled of spilled coffee on his floor and the battered mug lying against the wall, panting in the silence Kathryn had left behind.

As much as he would miss them, it was time to send Tom and B'Elanna and Miral and the little one back to the Alpha Quadrant.

With a tired sigh, he wandered over to his desk in search of Harry's Security report.

Safety was the issue, not space. Kathryn's quarters were vast. Space wasn't the problem and never had been.

He found the PADD he was looking for under a pile of Kathryn's work PADDs and stalked back over to the sofa, scrolling through the report as he went. Because he wasn't watching his footing, he stepped in the puddle of spilled coffee and cursed his own carelessness.

He dropped onto the sofa and peeled off his wet socks.

She practically lived in his quarters anyway.

Half the PADDs on the desk were hers, not his. She had her own desk in her own rooms, but she preferred to work in his quarters. She kept a spare uniform in his closet. There was a bottle of lavender-scented shampoo in his shower, too. Her favorite nightgown was tucked under his pillow, and she'd even taken to replicating fresh flowers for his table.

She'd all but moved in, without even asking him.

Chakotay ground his teeth and tried to read Harry's report, but the words swam in front of his eyes.

Tom and B'Elanna would be foolish not to go back to Earth. They had a chance to lead a stable life, a normal life filled with children and laughter and love. They'd get a dog, probably. Paris had always had a dog growing up. He'd want that for Miral and the baby-to-be.

Chakotay flopped onto his back. Why couldn't Kathryn see it's what they deserved, what they needed?

The scent of coffee filled his nose.

He turned his head and regarded the puddle of cooling coffee staining his carpet, and beyond it, the battered coffee mug.

She'd been thrilled when he'd presented it to her. He'd sheepishly explained that he'd wanted something of her with him on his _Voyager_, and the most representative thing he could think of was the silver coffee mug. He'd never used it, just gave it a place of honor in his quarters where he could retrieve it when he felt sad or lonely. He'd cradled it in his hands and cried a few times when missing her had become such a fierce ache he needed the cleansing that only tears could bring.

She'd cried, too, when he told her the story, and thanked him for saving it for her. "It's all I have here," she'd said, holding it against her cheek.

He'd remembered what it was like on their first voyage through the Delta Quadrant, when he and his crew had found themselves on _Voyager_ without any of their familiar things around them. They'd all felt off-balance and untethered, until Gerron, sweet, innocent Gerron, had walked among them with an armful of objects he'd managed to retrieve when they'd fled the _Valjean_. A holo of Mike Ayala's sons. A sweater from Hogan's quarters. A scarf belonging to one of the Delaneys. Other things, mostly mundane, now saturated with an undeniable sacredness.

And for Chakotay, his medicine bundle.

Gerron had handed it over almost reverently, and Chakotay remembered the tears that had threatened to spill from his own eyes. So far from everything and everyone he knew, he and the others had something familiar to cling to.

He'd thanked Gerron on behalf of them all. "This is a start," he'd said. "Now we can start making this our home."

It's all he wanted for Tom and B'Elanna and their children. Something to cling to, someplace to call home.

He stared at the battered coffee mug, the familiar thing that Kathryn had clung to upon her return from "suspension."

He closed his eyes and pictured the petite Admiral's uniform in his closet.

The PADDs on his desk.

The flowers on his table.

The nightgown under his pillow.

She'd hadn't "all but" moved in. She _had_ moved in.

With a cry of realization and anguish, Chakotay levered himself up off the couch, lurched across the room and knelt beside the coffee mug.

She was trying to make a home for herself…_with him_.

He couldn't deny her that comfort just because it hadn't been his idea. Hell, if she'd have floated the idea eight years ago, he'd have been ecstatic. Now that their positions were reversed, now that he was the one in charge within the walls of this ship even though she outranked him, he'd let his stubborn pride – and a handful of old hurts that shouldn't matter anymore – get in the way of their happiness.

And Tom and B'Elanna's.

_Spirits._

He picked up the coffee mug and pressed it to his forehead, feeling the tears spill down his cheeks.

Kathryn had been right. He'd let his emotions affect his decision making. But it wasn't just pride driving his choice. It was _jealousy_.

Tom and B'Elanna had a chance to go back to Earth and build for themselves what he himself had wanted for so long: A home. A real home, filled with laughter and love and children and a wife and maybe even a damn dog, if she wanted one.

He'd made his case to her for staying in the Delta Quadrant, and deep in his soul he knew it was the right thing to do, even if it meant that idealized home life was out of his reach. But if he couldn't have it…he'd send Tom and B'Elanna away to have it for him.

He didn't have the right to make that choice for them. There was no regulation against raising a family on a deep-space assignment. The _Galaxy-_class ships were even equipped for it. They'd made concessions on this very ship for children on their initial voyage through the Delta Quadrant, and they could do so again. If Tom and B'Elanna wanted to stay, it was their choice, not his. His only responsibility was to make sure they had what they needed – space for the children chief among those needs – and were as safe as possible.

And he could have a home with Kathryn. He already did. It couldn't be everything he wanted; life in the Delta Quadrant was too uncertain and their positions in Starfleet too much at the whim of others to ask Kathryn for the kind of commitment he craved. But it would be enough.

He would have to _make_ it be enough.

With the mug cradled in his hands, he turned around and sat with his back against the wall, oblivious to the cold coffee seeping into his trousers.

He wondered if he could ever make this night up to Kathryn.

-END Part 4-


	5. Chapter 5

**Note**: Thanks for all the reviews! I know this isn't an easy read because it depends pretty heavily on foreknowledge of the books. So thanks for sticking with me. More soon.

**Part 5**

Harry sighed and stared at the _kal-toh_ arrangement in front of him.

The holographic piano player continued to croon in a dark corner of the bar. A small handful of Alpha shift personnel had stopped by for a drink after dinner, but they were long since gone. At least until the end of the next shift, he was probably alone in the bar again. He ran a tired hand over his face, wondering if he looked as morose as he felt.

After B'Elanna had left, he'd slipped back to his quarters to change out of his uniform and noticed that the ship felt all wrong. Harry remembered times like these from their seven-year journey through the Delta Quadrant, rough nights when the Captain and her First Officer were at odds. Their moods affected the whole crew, whether they knew it or not. Everyone walked softly when the command team weren't getting along, afraid to tip the balance further towards open hostility. But now it seemed even worse, somehow. Janeway and Chakotay were together, and this difference of opinion over a policy matter had a definite personal edge to it. Harry prayed that the Admiral and the Captain would figure out how to find common ground, even if it meant sending Tom and B'Elanna back to the Alpha Quadrant.

He hoped that it wouldn't come to that, though. Having Miral around made _Voyager_ seem more like...like home. Like it had been the first time in the Delta Quadrant with Naomi. Harry wasn't naïve about the dangers, not anymore, but if Tom and B'Elanna felt it was safe enough to raise a second child out here, he trusted their judgment. As far as he knew there was no specific policy about having families on this kind of deep-space mission. If there were, his friends would have been sent home already.

No, the problem seemed to be entirely Chakotay's, which was surprising. The Captain loved Miral with his whole heart, and would no doubt love a second child just as much.

Then again, maybe that was the difficulty. He couldn't bear to see the young family in danger and would send them home in order to keep them safe, in spite of how much he would miss them.

Harry sighed. The crushing despair Chakotay had experienced in the last fourteen months would have leveled a lesser man. Maybe this whole business with Tom and B'Elanna and the baby, along with the Admiral's sudden suggestion to move in with him, had pushed him right over the edge. He wouldn't send Janeway away to safety, but he could keep B'Elanna and Tom and their family out of harm's way. Looked at from that perspective, Chakotay's actions weren't so surprising at all.

Harry gave one of the _kal-toh_ pieces an experimental nudge, half expecting the whole structure to come down. His mind wasn't on the exercise and he knew it. He wondered if Janeway and Chakotay were still in the Captain's quarters discussing the matter, or if Janeway had finally slipped away. Hopefully they were still together. He hated to think that this disagreement would sour their new relationship. Even worse, he hated to think how terrible Tom and B'Elanna would feel if that were to happen. Now that the command duo were finally together, no one wanted to come between them.

He drummed his fingers on the table, watching the _kal-toh_ pieces tremble and shift. He was just about to delete the game and ask the replicator for another beer when the wood and glass doors swung open, and Admiral Janeway walked in.

Saddened by the knowledge that she'd left the Captain for the time being, Harry sat back to watch her. She was still in uniform, and she looked...perplexed. And sad. Unbearably sad. Her eyes scanned the room quickly until they fell on him, seated alone in a dark corner of the bar. She pulled up short, hesitating in the doorway.

Harry started to rise. "Admiral?"

She waved a hand at him. "I'm sorry, Harry," she said. "I didn't mean to disturb you. I saw that the program was running and thought..." She swallowed hard. "I'll just go back to my quarters."

"It's all right," he said. Sensing that she'd come to the Holodeck to avoid being alone with her own thoughts, he took a careful step toward her, as if he were approaching a skittish doe. "I wouldn't mind some company." He shrugged toward the _kal-toh_ pieces. "I never could get the hang of this. How about a game of pool instead?"

The Admiral paused, then nodded with a halfhearted smile. "I'd like that," she said.

They played in silence, moving around the pool table as they'd done dozens of times before, except that this time, Harry was winning. Usually she mopped the floor with him – with everyone, really, except Tom and Tuvok. Tonight, though, her mind was clearly a thousand light-years away...or maybe just a few decks.

After he'd defeated her a second time, she stepped back from the table, hands wrapped around her cue. "I'd offer best three of five, but I think it would be pointless," she said. "Maybe I'll just call it a night."

Harry suddenly felt as though he needed to keep her there and talking. It's what Chakotay would have done, he realized, and racked his cue. "How about a glass of wine?" he asked.

Janeway leaned her cheek against the pool cue. "It's late. I should get back to my quarters," she said. But she didn't move toward the door.

Harry let out a long, slow breath. "B'Elanna was here earlier," he said. "I know a little bit about what happened after the watch." He crossed to his former table, wiped out the _kal-toh_ game and ordered a carafe of Merlot from the replicator. "How about that glass of wine, Kathryn?"

It was a presumption and he knew it. He turned his back on her and poured two glasses, allowing her time and space to think, and sat down.

When he felt her hand on his shoulder, he relaxed. "Thank you, Harry," she said softly, and sat opposite him, toying with the stem of her glass. "Can I ask you a question, off the record?"

"Of course."

"What were those fourteen months like?" she asked. She looked away for a moment, but not before Harry caught the shimmer of tears in her eyes. "What was it like when you thought I was..."

Harry blinked. "Am I the person you really want to know about?"

Janeway closed her eyes. "No." She shook her head. "Hugh told me about the drinking and the depression," she said. "I need to know from you, from his friend, what it was like." She looked back at him, her eyes free of tears now, but filled with pain and confusion. "What was _he_ like, Harry?"

Harry sipped his wine, letting the rich taste roll over his tongue and stalling for time. The fourteen months had been hard on all of them, and not just because of Janeway's apparent death. Letting his mind wander back through the crises and the emotional trauma, Harry realized that he probably needed to have this discussion almost as much as she did, but for very different reasons.

He squared his shoulders and set the glass aside. "Chakotay was...broken," he said softly. "And none of us knew why."

Janeway's eyes closed again. "That's the same word Hugh used when he talked to me."

"We could see it at the memorial service, but no one knew how to approach him. We didn't know what to say." He licked his lips. "To be honest, we were all a little afraid of him."

Her eyes snapped open in surprise. "Of Chakotay?"

Harry nodded. "He was so angry. I'd never seen him like that. I didn't want to make anything worse for him, so I didn't even try to talk to him. Your sister did. She was the only one."

"What did she say?"

"We don't know. You'd have to ask her. Or him."

Janeway nodded and waved at him to continue.

"We weren't even sure who he was angry at. You, for going alone. The Borg, for what they did to you. Or..." He glanced up at her.

"Or at himself, for not being there to protect me."

Harry nodded. "We thought maybe that's why he started drinking. To dull both the anger and the self-blame."

Janeway took a long sip of her wine. "How bad did the drinking get?"

Harry spread his hands flat on the table between them. "He never came on duty intoxicated, I promise you that. Hungover and looking like a _targ's_ breakfast, yes. But never drunk. Not once."

To Harry's astonishment, Janeway turned a half-smile on him. "He knows I would've haunted him if he had."

Harry chuckled in spite of himself. "Probably so. And he kept it in his quarters, as far as anybody knows. He was self-aware enough not to demean himself in front of his crew. None of us ever had to cover for him or make an excuse for him. He never missed a single shift."

Janeway looked up sharply, frowning. A memory of The Void and Janeway's months-long absence from the Bridge sliced through Harry's thoughts, and he drew in a sudden breath. "I didn't mean-"

Her jaw clenched. "It's all right. Go on."

"We knew he was hurting, but no one could talk to him about it. Maybe if B'Elanna had been there, things would have been different. But he was trying to get through his grief on his own, and we could all see it wasn't working. He was cold and distant...and erratic."

Janeway sipped her wine. "I know about the Orions."

Harry nodded. "Tom and I talked about it then. We hoped maybe he could work through it on his own."

"What made him stop drinking?"

"The Borg. As soon as we detected them, he forced himself to detox so he'd be ready for them. But he refused to take the easy way out of that, too."

Janeway nodded. "I've talked to the Doctor. He told me Chakotay preferred to...'sweat it out,' was the phrase."

"Right. And when he came back on duty he was...hard." It was the only word Harry could think of that encapsulated the anger, the determination and the lust for vengeance that rolled off of Chakotay in waves then, every minute of every day. "Hard as a rock. Uncompromising. Demanding – of everyone, but himself more than anyone. Tom said he hadn't seen him like that even in the Maquis."

"And he started making mistakes."

"Yes. He led the fleet into a trap in the Azure Nebula. Tom says that caused him to slip into a traumatic and delayed shock from the Orions, the drinking, the detox...and your death." Harry knocked back the rest of his wine and refilled his glass. "Fortunately, I don't remember any of that."

Janeway reached out and covered his hand with hers. "He almost got you killed."

"He _did_ get a lot of good people killed. I was lucky." Harry's voice was foreign to his own ears, husky and dark.

"Are you still angry with him?"

He shook his head. "If I were, I wouldn't be here. I understand now what he was going through, and I respect him more for getting help and pulling himself out of it. I've forgiven him. But it hasn't been easy."

"For any of you."

"No."

An uncomfortable silence stretched between them. Janeway finished her wine and excused herself to the bar. When she came back with a bottle of Scotch and two small glasses, Harry gave her a grim smile. "This is probably the best idea you've ever had, Admiral."

"Or the worst," she quipped. "It remains to be seen." She poured two shots. They each knocked back their drinks and stared at each other across the table. "Ready to tell me the rest?" she asked, refilling their glasses.

Harry felt the cringe cross his face. "Orcas Island."

She nodded. "Orcas Island."

Harry sighed. "He just...disappeared. I was still recovering, Tom had his own problems to deal with, B'Elanna was gone, Tuvok was on assignment, Seven was in Sweden..." He fingered the etchings on his glass of Scotch. "Everything and everyone just drifted away."

"But Tom found him."

"Only after searching for months and finally contacting Sveta." Harry pushed his drink away, suddenly sick to his stomach. "He was a mess when Tom found him. Skinny and dirty and mentally unstable." He gave a low, humorless chuckle. "When Tom told me about it, I thought it all sounded like an assignment my Mom would give her eighth-graders back home. 'The Ways of the Plains Indians.' The Native American had gone native. Nice cliché."

"You were disappointed with him."

Harry nodded. "We all were. And shocked he wouldn't come back, but wouldn't tell anyone why." He eyed Janeway warily. "That's when Tom figured it out. That you and Chakotay..." He hesitated.

She nodded her acceptance. "Go on."

Harry leaned across the table. "Then it all started to make sense. The drinking, the revenge, the mistakes... He was in love with you, but he'd never told anyone and so no one new why he was so broken. No one had any patience with his behavior, and he had no one to help him. And that's why he fell apart."

She touched his hand. "It's all right, Harry. I know you would have all been there for him, if you had known."

He nodded. "And I know this is going to sound selfish, but... If he had just told us, maybe he could have been there for us, too."

She withdrew her hand. "What was he like, when he came back on duty?"

Harry smiled. "Better. He was back to the Chakotay we all remembered. Sadder and wiser, but solid. I think...I think maybe he came back to honor you and to take care of all of us. It's what you would have wanted, and he came back determined to make sure we would be safe." This time, Harry reached out to touch her hand. "And I think maybe that's why he reacted the way he did to Tom and B'Elanna's news."

Janeway sucked in a sudden, sharp breath. "How much did B'Elanna tell you?"

"That she's expecting again, and they asked the two of you if they could stay. You offered a way to make it work, but the Captain reacted badly to the idea."

Janeway stood up and wandered to the pool table. Leaning against it with her back to him, she rolled a ball across the felt, bouncing it off the far rail and watching it careen back to her. "I think I've made a terrible mistake."

Harry rose and crossed to her. "What makes you say that, Admiral?"

Her voice, when it finally came, was one he'd never heard from her before. Soft, hesitant, small. "I made an assumption I shouldn't have made," she whispered. "Then I did something I swore I'd never do to him again. I made it personal. And now...I'm not sure I can make it right."

He leaned against the pool table next to her. "I'm sure Chakotay didn't mean to hurt you, any more than you meant to hurt him. He loves you," Harry said quietly. "He always has. And you love him." She turned to stare at him, but didn't deny it. He risked a hand on her shoulder. "You've been through The Void, the Borg, the Devore and the _Equinox_, and you still love each other. I can't imagine you'll let this change that."

She nodded. Then a slow, sly smile spread across her face. "What's an unexpected pregnancy between friends, right?"

Harry snatched his hand away. "You...you aren't-"

Janeway laughed out loud. "No, I'm not. And you, Lieutenant, are far too easy a target for me."

Harry exhaled in a whoosh. "I guess I always have been, haven't I? You'd think years of practice with Tom would have negated that."

She cocked a challenging eyebrow at him. "Are you saying Tom's teasing is equal to mine?"

Harry grinned. "No, Admiral. Never."

"Good." She stared up at him for a moment, then placed a hand on his cheek. "Thank you for this, Harry. You've given me a lot to think about."

He nodded. "Glad I could help, Admiral."

She nodded back, a swift dip of her chin, and looked around the Holodeck. "You've been drinking alone tonight, Lieutenant," she clucked. "Bad precedent for a senior officer."

He shrugged. "Tom and B'Elanna are obviously busy, Seven's with Hugh, the Doc's being recalibrated..."

"Isn't there someone else you'd like to spend time with?"

He shuffled his feet. He'd forgotten how perceptive she was. "I have been seeing someone," he said vaguely, "but she's on Beta shift right now."

Janeway patted his shoulder. "You should talk to your CO's about getting that switched, Lieutenant. I happen to know the First Officer has a soft spot for star-crossed lovers. And beneath that gruff Maquis exterior of his, your Captain is a hopeless romantic."

Harry chuckled. "I'll talk to them right away, Admiral."

-END part 5-


	6. Chapter 6

Note: Sorry this took so long. I rewrote it about five times. It had to be perfect. I'm still not sure it is, but it's as close as my meager skills can make it. Enjoy.

**Part 6**

Kathryn stood in the middle of the darkened Admiral's quarters – _her_ quarters – feeling dwarfed by the size of the empty rooms.

Afsarah Eden's belongings had all been removed weeks ago, but Kathryn, still not entirely accustomed to having unlimited replicator access on this particular ship, hadn't replaced them with any of her own. She'd replicated uniforms and a few clothes, of course, as well as linens for the bed and dishes for the table, even though she'd barely used either. Her mother and sister had gutted her San Francisco apartment in the days following her memorial service and placed everything she owned in storage. She had nothing here, or at least very little, and nothing of significance.

She turned slowly on the spot. As lovely and spacious as these rooms were, they weren't home. Not yet. She doubted they ever would be.

The few things she did cherish were all in Chakotay's quarters. The coffee mug he'd rescued for her. The copy of Dante's _Inferno_ he'd never returned. Her favorite silk nightgown, tucked under his pillow. And Chakotay himself, her island in a sea of confusion and uncertainty, both during their first journey through the Delta Quadrant and now, in the weeks following her forced "suspension."

Kathryn wondered if, after the events of this evening, he would ever be her refuge again. He needed time to think, that much was obvious. Kathryn suspected that, consumed by his concern for her, he'd been ignoring the emotional upheaval her sudden reappearance among the living had caused him.

If the situation weren't so fragile and her own state of mind so precarious, she might have chuckled to herself at the thought that _he_ was the one not taking care of himself this time. Somewhere along the way they'd managed to reverse roles. And what would Chakotay have done in her situation? He might have tried to draw her out at first, but would soon have realized she needed to work through her emotions on her own. He would have bided his time, if reluctantly, and let her come to him when she was ready.

Kathryn resolved to do the same, as difficult as she knew it would be.

With a tired sigh, she wandered into the dark, unfamiliar bedroom and began to strip off her uniform. She'd just hung her jacket in the closet when her comm badge, resting on the bedside table next to her rank insignia, buzzed to life.

_"Chakotay to Janeway."_

Kathryn stared at it with wide eyes. He needed time to think, yes, but she'd assumed "time" would be a matter of days, not just a couple of hours.

The comm crackled again.

_"Chakotay to Janeway?"_ His voice was more hesitant now. Maybe even afraid.

Kathryn tapped the comm with her fingertip. "Janeway here."

There was a gusty exhalation on the other end of the line. _"Hi."_

"Hi."

_"Kathryn… Can we talk?"_

"Of course we can." She frowned at his guarded tone of voice. "Did you think we couldn't?"

_"I wasn't sure."_

She picked up the comm and cradled it in her palm. "We have to be able to talk. We need to agree to that now, or this is never going to work."

_"I know,"_ he replied. _"I was just worried that..."_ She could visualize him in his quarters, shuffling his feet and shaking his head at his own artlessness. _"I don't have a lot of experience with this."_

For a second, Kathryn wasn't sure what he was referring to. Then it occurred to her in a sudden flash of insight: He'd never been in any kind of long-term loving relationship, as far as she knew, and maybe now in middle age he was only just learning how to navigate those waters. "That's all right," she soothed. "We'll work through it and figure it out together. My place or yours?"

_"Actually… That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about."_

Kathryn sat down hard on the edge of the bed. She wished she hadn't put it in those terms, but before she could rephrase her question he continued in a softer, gentler voice.

_"So why don't you grab whatever you need,"_ he said, _"and come home."_

She jumped up so fast her head swam a little. "I'm on my way."

She was out the door and headed for the lift before he closed the channel.

Though only one deck and one corridor away, the trip to the Captain's quarters seemed to take hours while a jumble of questions tumbled through her mind. Had he changed his mind about Tom and B'Elanna's baby? Would he allow them to stay? Was the use of the word _home_ deliberate?

When the lift doors slid open again she forced herself to stay outwardly calm, unwilling to expose her emotions to his crew. But the corridor was empty, and so she practically skipped the last few meters to his door, drawing herself up short only when she would have reached for his chime. Before she could touch it, the door opened and she stepped inside.

He was still in his uniform trousers and gray shirt, standing in shadow and framed by starlight just a few meters inside the door. His feet were bare, and even though the brightness of his eyes brought a lump to her throat, it was the sight of his toes, curled inward against the carpet, that went straight to her heart.

"Chakotay," she began, but he took a step toward her, one hand raised, palm up, as if making her an offering.

"I'm sorry," he said. "So sorry, Kathryn. For every damn word I said."

She ignored the offered hand and stepped into his arms. After a startled gasp, he folded her to his chest, tucking her head up under his chin.

"You were right," he continued. "I just wanted to give Tom and B'Elanna something we can't have, but it's not my choice to make. I have no right to force them into something just because I can't have it anymore." Kathryn frowned at that, but let him continue. "There's no regulation against it. Even though I would choose something different for them, you told me once that Starfleet is reluctant to regulate people's personal lives. So my only responsibility here is to make sure they're as safe as possible. We can tell them in the morning. We found a way for Naomi and Icheb. We'll find a way for them."

"We always do."

"Always." He took a shaky breath. "And I know you weren't trying to make a decision for me or undermine my authority. I'm sorry for even implying it. It was out of line, no matter what our personal relationship is."

She hugged him tight. "Why do you think you reacted so strongly?"

He sighed and led her to the couch. Seated together under the stars, Kathryn remembered all the many times she wished she had been able to curl into him like this, all those years ago.

"I probably need to talk to Hugh," he began softly, "but I think I just…panicked."

"That doesn't seem like you."

"No, it doesn't. And that's why I need Hugh's advice." He smoothed her hair away from her face. "It took me a long time to find myself after you were gone, Kathryn. I felt…scattered. Like a statue shattered into a million pieces."

"Broken," she offered.

"Yes. Broken. I had to put myself back together You being back in my life… It's nothing less than a gift. But it's a foundational change. I don't feel broken this time, so much as...shaken. I want to be with you like this more than anything. You know that."

"Of course."

"But I don't want to lose the man I've become, either. As difficult as those fourteen months were, I don't want to forget them."

"I would never ask you to."

"I know. But for a minute this afternoon, just a split second, I thought I _had_ forgotten. And it rattled me. I think that's why I reacted the way I did."

They were both silent for a long moment. Kathryn listened to the sound of his breathing in the darkness, felt his strong heart beating beneath her cheek. "I'm sorry I accused you of letting your emotions drive your decisions."

He chuckled softly. "You were right, though. I do have a habit of feeling first and thinking later."

She drew back to look into his eyes. "It's one of the things I've always loved about you, Chakotay. I have a tendency to…overanalyze things sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

She poked him in the ribs. "I'm trying to pay you a compliment, Captain."

"Then by all means, Admiral. Proceed."

She nestled against his chest again. "You have the ability to cut right to the heart of the matter when I would gnaw at tiny details until I made us both crazy."

"We complement each other."

She nodded. "I think it's one of the reasons we worked so well from the start."

He bent to nuzzle the top of her head. "That, and the fact that I was madly in love with you?"

"That too."

He reached down and tilted her face up to his for a tender kiss. When he drew back again his eyes were very bright and full. "I love you, Kathryn. I'm sorry I accused you of walking out on a fight."

"I love you, too. I was only trying to give you space to think."

He gave her a sheepish grin. "And realize what an ass I was being?"

She smiled in response, glad he could make a joke about it. "Something like that, yes."

He took a deep breath. "Are you still willing to give up your quarters?"

"That depends." She looked up at him with the most innocent expression she could muster. "Do you think the Captain can find somewhere else to put me?"

This time, his kiss was far less tender. "The Captain has some very specific ideas about where he'd like to put you, Admiral."

He started to pull her up off the couch and toward the bedroom – _their_ bedroom – but she drew him back down beside her. "Can you explain something to me first?"

"I'll try."

"When you said you just wanted to give Tom and B'Elanna what we can't have, what did you mean?"

He backed away from her, his face suddenly in full shadow, unreadable in the dimness. "I just meant that we've made our choice to stay out here instead of going back. That's all."

She shook her head, watching him. She could almost feel the sudden tension radiating off him. "That's not what you said. You said you had no right to force them into something because you couldn't have it anymore."

His shoulders slumped. "Can we drop this for now?"

"No, we can't." She peered at him, certain from his change in mood that he was hiding something from her. "We've just agreed that we have to be able to talk. But there's something you're not saying, Chakotay. Something you feel deeply, but you're not sharing it with me. That's a habit you have to break if this is going to work." She reached across the couch and slipped her hand into his. "If _we're_ going to work," she added.

"I know," he whispered. "But it's so hard."

"It hasn't always been. It used to be very clear what you were feeling." She smiled and brushed his cheek with her fingertips. "Even disguised as a story or a gift. I always knew what you were feeling."

His lips twisted into a grimace. "Grief changes you."

"I know," she murmured. "I've been there."

"And that's the other reason I can't tell you. I won't ask you to risk going through it again."

Bewildered now, Kathryn let go scooted to the far corner of the couch. "I don't understand."

He gave his head a little shake and smiled, but she could see that it was forced. "There is something that I want and have wanted for a long time. I didn't realize how badly I wanted it until tonight. But our decision to stay out here has put it out of my reach. Maybe not forever, but for the next few years." He smiled again, and this time it was genuine. "But I'm not one to put off today waiting for a tomorrow that might not come, so I've made peace with it. I almost forgot how grateful I am that we're together at all and got greedy. Having you here, having you tell me that you love me… It's enough. I'm not about to tempt the Universe by asking for more."

She blinked, almost unable to keep up with his thoughts and his changing moods. "Is there something you need from me that I haven't given you?"

"No, Kathryn. Never. It's just me." He sighed and ran a hand through his rapidly graying hair. "Just a middle-aged man wishing for more than he deserves."

"Something Tom and B'Elanna already have," she offered.

"Something they _could_ have, but don't want. And that's their choice."

"But it wouldn't have been your choice?"

"I made my choice."

She rubbed her forehead. "Talking in circles may be another habit we have to break."

He chuckled. "Actually, I think this is a new one. We've usually been pretty straightforward with each other."

She threw him a disbelieving look. "Have we? Tell me: How long was it between your breakup with Seven and Proxima, Chakotay?"

"Point taken," he said. "But I think by then we were both so accustomed to not talking about what was between us that we didn't know how to even start the conversation."

"We were used to hiding from each other."

"Exactly," he said. "But we don't have to do that anymore. We _can't_ do that anymore."

She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I mean… Damn," he breathed. "I forgot how good you are at that." He rubbed his chin. "All right, Kathryn… I'll tell you. But try to remember that this isn't necessarily something I need from you. It's something I wanted for us, but I realized tonight it won't happen. And that's all right."

"You've made peace with it."

He nodded. "I have."

She patted the sofa next to her. "Tell me what's so important to you, then. Maybe it's not as out of reach as you think."

He gave her a sad smile. "Oh, I think it is."

"We'll see."

With a sigh, he slid close and took her hand in both of his. "We were supposed to meet in Venice," he began, and after catching her breath at the unexpected change in topic, she nodded. "Well, I went. I was waiting in the café for you. That's where I was when…" He swallowed hard. "Your mother and sister sent Mark Johnson to tell me."

Kathryn gasped and pressed her fingers to her lips. "I didn't know that."

He nodded. "I sat there for hours, thinking about what our life together might be like. We'd talked a few times over subspace, but I'd never articulated any of it, not even to myself. But sitting there that afternoon… I had time to think about what I really wanted out of life, for myself and for us. And I was finally going to tell you."

He paused, gathering his thoughts, until she couldn't stand it anymore. "And?"

"It's everything Tom and B'Elanna could have now, but have chosen against. A place they never have to leave if they don't want to. A home to fill up with love and laughter and memories." He gave her hand a soft squeeze. "I was going to give up my command and take a desk job to be with you. I was even thinking about resigning my commission and going back to teaching. Whatever it took for us to be together, to grow old together, I was willing to do."

She cocked her head to one side, trying to understand what he wasn't saying. "You were going to ask me to move in with you?"

"Kathryn…" He leaned forward to peer into her eyes. "I was going to _propose_."

Kathryn's heart leapt into her throat as everything – the drinking, the desolation, the difficult journey out of despair – clicked into place and she suddenly comprehended both the depth of his hurt and his concern for the Paris family. "But then Mark came."

Blinking back sudden tears, he nodded. "Mark came, and I knew. He didn't even have to say anything. I knew. And I was afraid I'd never be the same."

"'Grief changes you,'" she whispered, repeating his own words back to him.

"It does," he agreed. "I finally understood what you'd been through when you lost Justin and then Mark." He took both of her hands in his. "And I won't put you through that again. I won't make you choose between me and Starfleet. Sharing quarters… It's the deepest commitment we can make now."

"Why?"

He frowned at her a little. "Because we both know how dangerous it is out here. I could climb into a shuttlecraft tomorrow and never come back."

She raised her chin. "And how is that different from our first trip through the Delta Quadrant?" His face hardened and she shook her head in frustration. "I'm not talking about your piloting skills, I'm talking about the dangers we face now and the dangers we faced then. They're the same, but we know more now than we did then."

"We do," he conceded, pulling her hands to his heart. "But we weren't together then."

"Do you think I would have grieved less if I had lost you then?"

He stared at her. "You wouldn't?"

She pulled their clasped hands to her lips, pressing kisses to his fingers. "I would have grieved, Chakotay. Not for what I lost, but for what we never had. And that may be even worse."

"I didn't know that," he choked. "I didn't realize-"

"Because I never let you see. I couldn't. You know why." He nodded. "But losing you out there…it would have destroyed me. I'd have done my utmost to get them home, but my sanity wouldn't have survived the trip."

"Kathryn…"

"You were going to propose to me that day in Venice."

"Yes."

"But now you're not?"

"I don't think I should," he whispered. "I don't think I _can_."

"Yes, you can," she said. "Because I can." Kathryn extricated her hands from his and cupped his beloved face in her palms. "All these years, you've sacrificed what you wanted to protect my heart. It's time I protected yours just as fiercely." She raised herself just far enough to press a soft kiss to his lips.

"I love you, Chakotay," she said. "I've loved you for a long time. I want what you want: A home. A life. I want us to grow old together, just as much as you do. I know our lives are dangerous and every day out here is a risk, but I'm willing to take that risk. Maybe this is not the ideal beginning that you imagined, but it _is_ a beginning. You are my rock, my foundation. With you, I know I'm never alone. I want you to be just as sure of my devotion as I've always been of yours."

Before he could react, before she could talk herself out of it, she slid to one knee in front of him, his hands folded in hers again. "Chakotay, will you marry me?"

Her words fell on his heart like the first golden rays of dawn after a long and lonely night. They brightened every shadowy corner of his mind and healed the dark and devastating wounds crushing grief had left behind. As he pulled her up and into his arms, his tear-streaked face pressed to her soft belly, and felt her wrap herself around his shaking body, he chanted out her name, over and over again, a mantra, a prayer, a refrain of hope and love. When she bent over him and answered with his own name in the same fashion, her lips pressed to his forehead, he knew that they had truly come full circle. They had traveled across the galaxy to find each other, only to discover that they'd been home all along.

-END Part 6-


End file.
